


Et Je M’en Vais Au Vent Mauvais

by justonemorelie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonemorelie/pseuds/justonemorelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I posted this a while ago as "Maybe You're Loveable" but I didn't like where it was going, so I removed it and decided to redo it.<br/>I hope you enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while ago as "Maybe You're Loveable" but I didn't like where it was going, so I removed it and decided to redo it.  
> I hope you enjoy :)

“Do we have to go tonight?”

“For the last time, yes!” Courfeyrac was almost regretting bringing Grantaire along with him, for the 10 minutes that the two had been walking the cynic had done nothing but complain, but Courf needed to get Grantaire out of the house. Since Grantaire had started at art school he had been drinking more and more every night, he claimed that it helped him to be creative but everyone else knew that the stress was really getting to him. It hadn’t been too bad initially, but the past few days had been terrifying for Courfeyrac, the last night being the worst. Courf had come home after a long day at work and was only stopping past to grab a few things before he went to his boyfriend’s house when he found Grantaire face down on the bathroom floor. For a while Courfeyrac was almost certain that the drunk wasn’t breathing, but he managed to pull the man off the floor and put him into bed before any serious damage could be done.

“I won’t know anybody except for you and Jehan and-“

“Enough arguing Grantaire, we’re going and you are not leaving without me.” Grantaire had to fight every urge to continue complaining, but he could see how annoyed Courfeyrac was becoming.

It was only a few minutes later that the pair arrived at the shabby old pub, Grantaire almost couldn’t believe that there was a place which sold alcohol that he had not visited. He looked up that the sign above the door, _The Musain_ , and took a deep breath before following Courfeyrac inside. Grantaire was instantly hit by the warmth that was emanating from the fireplace in the corner; it was more than that though. From the moment that Grantaire stepped inside he felt that he had finally found a place where he belonged, and that was all before he’d caught a glimpse of the man who was standing on a make-do stage at the back of the room. The blonde man was wearing black jeans and a tight fitting white shirt covered by a red jacket, he reminded Grantaire of a Greek God.

For the first time in Grantaire’s life he found himself in a pub being propelled in the opposite direction of the bar. He was drawn towards the man who looked as though he was rallying the people around him. Grantaire couldn’t make himself focus on anything that the blonde man was saying, he was simply absorbed in the passion that flowed with his voice and the way that his lips moved so effortlessly and perfectly over the words - That’s when their eyes met.  It was only for a second but it felt like hours to Grantaire as he stood there, completely trapped in the fire that was blazing behind the façade of those glacial blue eyes.

“Enjolras!” The blonde man turned away from Grantaire and towards a man who was standing next to the stage. The man had his arms around a woman that Grantaire recognised, her name was Eponine and she worked at the café with Courfeyrac. Enjolras jumped off the stage and walked towards Eponine and the other man, engaging them both in conversation which seemed much too calm to be coming from the same man who had been standing on that stage only moments ago. Before he had any idea what he was doing Grantaire found himself taking small and careful steps toward the trio only meters away, he felt the broad smile appear on his face as he realised that he had a good enough reason to be included in a conversation with the blonde man. He began to turn his steps to more definite ones, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets in an attempt to hide the shaking,

“Hey ‘Ponine!” Grantaire was shocked at how enthusiastic his own voice sounded, he could feel himself beginning to turn red and was wishing that he could just fall over, bump his head and go into a coma right then.

“Grantaire, I didn’t expect to see you here.” She seemed instantly sense that the man was uncomfortable and could think of at least five options as to why that could be, “This is my boyfriend Combeferre,” The man reached out and shook Grantaire’s hand firmly before returning it back to his girlfriend’s waist, “And this is-“

“And I’m Enjolras.” The fire in his eyes was still there, and appeared to somehow be burning brighter. He reached out his hand to Grantaire who took a deep breath before taking it, “You’re Courfeyrac’s housemate aren’t you?” Grantaire wasn’t expecting anyone in the pub to have heard of him, he hesitated for a moment before nodding shyly. He was trying his hardest to think of something to say but his brain could concentrate on nothing but the perfection of the man who was standing in front of him,

“Shit, my breaks over.” Combeferre gave Ep a quick kiss before rushing back to the bar. Grantaire didn’t realise how heavily he was breathing until he caught Eponine’s gaze,

“You alright hon?” Grantaire cleared his throat and nodded, glancing in Enjolras’ direction he noticed a curious smile which swept itself onto the man’s otherwise composed face.

“I… uh… I’m going to go get a drink.” He wasn’t prepared to wait for a reaction and as quickly as his feet allowed him he walked towards the bar and ordered himself a glass of whiskey, silently cursing himself as he thought of every little thing that he should have said.

 

“You ought to slow down on those, you know?” Grantaire instantly recognised the smooth voice that was coming from behind him; he turned to see Enjolras who was gesturing to the glass of whiskey in his hand,

“What else is there to do when a drunk like me is graced by the presence of Apollo himself?” Grantaire laughed to himself before raising his glass to Enjolras and gulping down the liquid which still remained in it. Enjolras tried to hide the fact that he was blushing, and was thankful that Grantaire was probably too intoxicated to notice anyway. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“It’s nearly closing.”

“Oh, but the night is still so young!” Grantaire laughed,

“Its 1:30 Grantaire, you’ve been sitting here for hours.” He waited a few moments for the drunk to reply, “Anyway, Courf and Jehan were getting a bit… Uh, anyway, I told them that they could leave and that I would see you home safely.” Grantaire lit up at these words and looked up at the man who somehow had become even more beautiful since the last time that they’d spoken. He slid himself off of the barstool and stumbled for a moment before feeling an arm wrap around his waist to support him. Grantaire flung his arm over Enjolras’ shoulder, and turned his head towards the blonde, not realising just how close the two were until his lips brushed softly across Enjolras’ jaw,

“You’re too good to be true Apollo.” Grantaire prayed that his slurred words made sense to Enjolras who was busy dragging the drunk out of the pub and onto the street while he continued what could only be described as drunken ramblings. It wasn’t until the pair had reached the front door that Grantaire realised that they weren’t at his house. The last thing that Grantaire could remember was being placed carefully onto a bed, having his shoes taken off and being covered with a blanket. Enjolras checked to make sure that the drunk was asleep before leaving the room and returning with a glass of water and two pills which he placed on the bedside table.

“Sleep well… Dionysus.” 


	2. A Second Chance at First Impressions

Grantaire was awake long before he had the desire to open his eyes, the pounding in his head was already bad enough and he definitely didn’t want to combine it with the pain he would experience when the brightness of the morning would hit his eyes. He felt around for a moment before realising that the blankets covering him were very different to his own, he snapped his eyes open and sat straight up, ignoring the pain that any sudden movements brought to his already throbbing head. When he finally took the time to note his surroundings he noticed a very familiar red jacket hanging over a chair in the corner. Grantaire fell back onto the bed and, with his hands covering his face, desperately tried to recall the events of the previous night, all that he could remember was the moment that his eyes met the blonde man’s. Enjolras.Grantaire turned his head and caught sight of the glass of water and pills that were sitting next to a square piece of paper with some writing scrawled on it,

**_“For the headache._ **

**_I have to go to work._ **

**_Feel free to cook something, if you can find any food that is._ **

**_I put my number in your phone so call me if you have any troubles._ **

**_-E.”_ **

Grantaire internally thanked Enjolras before swallowing down the pills with the water. He turned himself around so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet firmly on the ground. He finally gained enough energy to stand and took a moment to make sure that he was balanced before venturing out the door. The man was much more cautious than usual while tip-toeing through the empty apartment, careful to not leave too much of a trace of him ever being there. He found his shoes and jacket by the door and felt around his pockets for a moment before finally finding his phone,

_“Sorry about last night,_

_I probably made a fool of myself, please forgive me._

_-Grantaire.”_

 

“He’s alive!” The cheerful voice was more than Grantaire expected when he walked through his front door at 12:30pm. “Sorry for ditching you last night man, Enjolras was fairly...” Courfeyrac hesitated for a moment,

“Insistent?” Jehan called from the kitchen,

“Yes, uh, he was fairly insistent about looking after you last night.”

“It’s fairly surprising seeing as he usually despises people who are so-“

“Jehan!” Courfeyrac shot him a glance which could have cut glass before turning back to Grantaire who was still standing in the doorway, “What he was going to say is that Enjolras hasn’t much of an appreciation for the drink.” Grantaire felt his stomach clench. To think that a man like Enjolras could ever feel anything but pity for someone like Grantaire. He silently scorned himself for being so stupid,

“I’m going to go sleep off this headache,” Grantaire lied, “I’ll see you guys later.” Grantaire didn’t wait for a reply before heading to his room. He slammed the door shut and fell onto his bed without worrying about changing his clothes. He wasn’t tired enough to sleep, so he lay awake for what felt like hours overanalysing every thought which came to his mind, most of them revolving around Enjolras. It was only 2:15pm when Grantaire felt his phone vibrate,

_“Forgive you? What for?”_

_“For being a drunken fool.”_

_“You’re too hard on yourself. For someone who could barely tell which way was up, you were very well behaved.”_

_“You’re too kind, Apollo.”_

_“Why do you insist on calling me that?”_

Grantaire laughed loud, abruptly stopping in hopes that his housemates wouldn’t have heard him. He let his mind wander back to the snippets of memory that remained from the night before. The golden curls that cascaded from the man’s head, the light blue eyes which heated him to the core, the smooth tones of his voice which managed to linger over each sound almost perfectly. He smiled to himself,

_“If you have to ask, my dear Apollo, you will never know.”_

It was almost half an hour later when Grantaire’s phone buzzed with Enjolras’ reply, Grantaire breathed a sigh of relief when he read the words on the screen,

_“Maybe you’ll tell me if I ask you in person._

_Mine, tomorrow at 7?”_

_“I’ll be there.”_

“Are you sure?” Grantaire turned in the mirror, trying to see every bit of himself. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a grey t-shirt which he tugged at, wishing that he knew how to iron clothes properly. “I mean, he didn’t say how dressy it would be and-“

“Oh stop your whining Grantaire.” Courfeyrac placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, “You look fine, and I’m sure Enjolras will agree.” He handed Grantaire a leather jacket, “Now get going, you’re going to be late.”

 

Grantaire almost changed his mind before knocking at the front door, he’d never been so nervous about going on a date, if that’s what this was, he swallowed hard and lightly rapped on the wood. The door opened and the sight almost took Grantaire’s breath away. Right in front of him was a man in a bright red business shirt with two buttons undone at the top tucked into his black jeans which were being held up by a black leather belt.

“Come in.” Grantaire obliged passing the man whose eyes felt like they never left him. Enjolras couldn’t help but stare at the man as he walked by; his shirt was tight fitting and perfectly showed off every inch of his torso. Enjolras snapped out of his daze, “Uh, table is set. I’ll bring out the food now. Go ahead and sit down.” He gestured to a small table near the window, it appeared plain and simple from  distance, but on closer inspection Grantaire could see the delicate intricacies carved into the wood. In the middle of the table there was a single red rose sitting in a thin vase and on each end there was pure white cutlery and the nicest wine glasses Grantaire had ever seen filled halfway with red liquid. It seemed all too fancy for Grantaire, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the effort that Enjolras had put into everything. He heard the footsteps approaching from behind and spun around to see Enjolras holding two plates of spaghetti. “I hope you don’t mind, it’s all I know how to cook without burning anything.”

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“I don’t mind making the effort for you.” Enjolras blushed slightly, dropping his eyes to the floor before walking to the table and setting the plates down. The pair sat down, “So I have a proposition for you…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think last night was exactly the correct way for us to meet, so I propose that we use tonight as reconciliation. A second meeting of sorts.” Grantaire couldn’t help but smile at the way Enjolras tilted his head as he curiously awaited a reply. Grantaire raised his glass to Enjolras,

“To second chances at first impressions.”


	3. The Scarf

As the night wore on, Enjolras and Grantaire fell into comfortable conversations about nothing in particular. Enjolras tried to explain to Grantaire how law and history could ever be interesting, while Grantaire tried to explain what inspired his art. Neither could completely comprehend the deep inner workings of the other, but they felt the contrasting pieces of their personalities begin to meld together. The hours passed faster than either of the two desired, each of them desperately trying to delay Grantaire’s departure but by midnight the pair had run out of excuses to drag the night on.

“It’s getting really late,” Grantaire let out a sheepish yawn, “or really early, depending on how you look at it.” Enjolras laughed at Grantaire’s words and looked deep into his eyes, almost pleading with him to not go. Enjolras wished that he had the courage to tell this man that he barely knew that he wanted him to stay,

“Is your place far?”

“Not too far, 20 minutes by foot maybe.” Enjolras sighed and frowned slightly,

“I can walk with you if-“

“You’ve done enough for me Apollo.” Grantaire smiled at Enjolras as he blushed, internally wondering if he should be so brave as to inquire about the Grecian references but eventually deciding against it. The two men stood reluctantly, waiting for a moment in stillness before Grantaire turned towards the front door. Grantaire wished that he’d met Enjolras earlier, so that he wouldn’t feel so foolish for wishing that he could stay. When the pair reached the door Enjolras sighed before pulling it open, shivering instantly as the cold wind chilled him to the bone,

“It’s freezing out there,” Enjolras looked back to the man who was clumsily pushing his arm through the sleeve of his jacket, “wait here a second.” Grantaire stood in confusion as the icy wind continued to blow through the open door and Enjolras disappeared, emerging moments later with a thick scarf in his hand. He carefully threw it over Grantaire’s head, wrapping it around his neck and allowing his hands to linger for a moment as they clung to the dark material.

“What’s this for?” Grantaire smiled as he watched Enjolras’ actions, which always seemed so deliberate and calculated, before looking back into the blonde man’s eyes,

“Well, for one, I’d never forgive myself if you caught a cold,” Enjolras inched closer to the man and swallowed before whispering, “and it gives me a reason to see you again.” Grantaire stared down at Enjolras’ lips, he wanted so desperately to know how they felt against his own, but was fighting the urge that burned with every inch, every nerve, and every fibre of his being.  Enjolras released his grip on the scarf, maintaining eye contact with Grantaire who lifted his hands up and around Enjolras’ neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. Enjolras felt a soft kiss on his neck before Grantaire quickly pulled away,

“Thank you for everything tonight.” Grantaire smiled, “I’ll be sure to see you soon, Enjolras.” Grantaire turned away and began walking down the hall, unable to wipe the smile off his face. He clasped the scarf that was wrapped tightly around his neck, breathing in Enjolras’ scent. Enjolras waited until Grantaire turned the corner before closing the door. Walking to his bedroom and falling in a heap onto his bed smiling as thoughts of Grantaire led him to sleep.

 

“Oh, you’re home.” Courfeyrac’s eyes widened as he saw the man walk sluggishly into the kitchen. “I thought you’d be out all night…”

“I came home a bit after midnight.” Grantaire muttered as he fumbled around the kitchen, still half asleep.

“No wonder you look so tired.” Jehan walked into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Courfeyrac’s waist,

“Actually,” Grantaire spun around looking straight at the pair with accusing eyes, “I look so tired because you two kept me up all night with all of your-“

“Okay! We get it… we didn’t realise you’d be home…” Courf’s eyes dropped to the floor. He only glanced up when he heard a snicker, and was shocked to see Grantaire struggling to contain his laughter, “You bastard, you didn’t hear anything, did you?” Grantaire shook his head before erupting into laughter,

“Someone’s in a good mood.” Jehan smiled slyly, “Did you have a nice night last night?” Grantaire stopped laughing and sighed as he reflected on every detail of the night before,

“It was good, yeah.” He turned around to continue making his coffee, smiling to himself as he thought of the only word that he could actually use to describe his night with Enjolras. Perfect. “Anyway,” Grantaire spurted as he snapped himself out of his thoughts, “I’m going out to see Alyssa today so if anyone calls tell them that I’ll be back later.” Courfeyrac and Jehan exchanged knowing glances,

“Grantaire, um…”

“What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” Courfeyrac shook his head slightly at Jehan who instantly got the message and bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from speaking. “We were just going to ask you to, um, clean the kitchen, but if you’re going out then that’s fine.” Courfeyrac was a terrible liar, but Grantaire made the decision to not ask any questions instead he smiled at the men before heading to the bathroom for a shower.

 

“He sounds great bub, but if he ever has the nerve to hurt my big brother…” Grantaire laughed as Alyssa attempted to look threatening. She was a short girl with dark brown hair which reached almost to the small of her back, she was only two years younger than Grantaire but to him, it was like she was still only 14 years old.

“Calm down, we’ve only been on one date. If that’s even what it was.” Grantaire quickly corrected himself,

“Judging by the way you’ve been talking about him for the past half an hour, yeah I’d say it was a date.” She nudged Grantaire, “And since when am I not allowed to protect you?”

“Since you’re my little sister, and it’s always been my job to look after you. You’re my responsibility Lyss.”

“Alright, stop that. This is getting to soppy for my liking. Let’s just go get lunch so I can get rid of you.” Alyssa laughed loudly and began skipping down the street, stopping only to turn and reach her hand out to Grantaire,

“I’m not going to skip with you.”

“Yeah, that’s what you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this may seem like a pointless chapter, but I really wanted to introduce Grantaire's sister.  
> Yeah, hope you enjoy.  
> Feedback is always appreciated :)


	4. Things Which Move Too Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't updated this in far too long but here we go

Grantaire sat at his desk glancing between his sketch book and his assortment of pastels which were scattered randomly in front of him. He ran his hand through his hair as he thought of the words his teacher had said a few days before,

“Your assignment for this week is to create the fire inside.” How the hell was he supposed to do that? Grantaire mindlessly reached down, picking up a red stick from the desk before using it to mark the paper with a single line. Before he had time to think through what he was doing, Grantaire had added another and another, picking up other colours as he scribbled frantically over the page. It wasn’t long until the colours in front of Grantaire had taken an unmistakable shape. He smiled down at his drawing, admiring the small details that he barely even recalled adding before glancing over to his watch. Grantaire let out a lazy yawn, he hadn’t realised how late it had become. He pushed himself up from his chair and allowed his feet to carry him to his bed where he collapsed and almost instantly fell asleep immersed in the image which had covered the paper in his sketchbook.

 

Grantaire was startled awake by the sound of his phone ringing. It was late in the morning, but Grantaire often cherished every moment of sleep that he could get. He reached over to his phone and didn’t bother checking the caller ID,

“Hello?” His voice was hoarse and tired,

“Grantaire, did I wake you?”

“No,” Grantaire lied, he instantly recognised the voice that was coming from the other end, “I was just, uh…”

“Resting your eyes?”

“Yeah, that one.” Enjolras laughed on the other end of the phone, Grantaire wondered how on earth he could be so lively on a Monday morning. Since starting art school, Grantaire had become very accustomed to his 2 day weeks and 5 day weekends. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” Enjolras hesitated, he was so desperate to ask but for the first time in his life feared rejection, “I just got told that I don’t have to work today so I was just wondering if um, if you’d maybe like to go to lunch with me?”

“Sure, I’d love to.” He had practically jumped out of bed and begun sorting clothes for the day, “Meet me at The ABC in about 20.” Enjolras agreed and hung up as Grantaire ran into the bathroom. He knew he wouldn’t be late, but he was also so excited that he couldn’t help but rush.

Grantaire ran from the bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist. He was just about to drop the towel and replace it with his slightly torn blue jeans when he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Grantaire spun around and felt his heart almost stop when he saw the figure standing just outside his open bedroom door. The blonde man stood for a moment before taking a step forward and smiling,

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget my scarf.”

****

Grantaire could do nothing but stare in shock as he watched Enjolras who was standing in the doorway. He stammered for a moment, clenching his towel tightly around his waist before managing to choke out,

“How? Why?” He shook his head in confusion, “What?”

“Courf let me in as he was leaving for work.” Grantaire sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed,

“Not what I was asking but…” Grantaire looked up at Enjolras who was still standing, hands in his pockets and a large grin on his face. He took a step towards the bed,

“Oh…” Enjolras said all too knowingly, “You meant why did I come here…” another step, “Can I not simply be that damn attached to my scarf?” Grantaire simply stared,

“It’s uh, it’s on the chair.” Grantaire watched as Enjolras turned and walked towards the desk where the dark scarf was slung over the back of the chair. Enjolras reached down to grab it but stopped for a moment. Grantaire began to stand and instantly realised that Enjolras was staring at the picture on the desk. “Shit, uh, pay no attention to that it’s,” No matter how hard Grantaire tried he simply couldn’t find the right words to say, “I had an art project and it was-“

“What was the project?” Enjolras didn’t look up, but remained staring at the paper,

“Um…” Grantaire ran his hand through his hair, “The fire inside.” Enjolras still stared at the paper, a smile beginning to form on his face as he admired every detail. There it was in front of him, a man with golden curls standing on top of what appeared to be a mountain of various types of furniture, he was wearing a red jacket and was using both arms to thrust a flag of the same colour into the air. He was lost.

“It’s…” Enjolras paused for a moment, the man whose actions and words were always so deliberate had finally found something that could stop him in his tracks,

“It’s you…” Grantaire stared down at the ground, “Well, it’s inspired by you.” Grantaire could feel his cheeks burning, he was so embarrassed and all he could think of was how Enjolras would hate him for being so obsessed. Grantaire looked up when he felt a hand touch the side of his face. He hadn’t even realised that Enjolras had moved, but now the two men were standing only centimetres apart.

“Thank you Grantaire.” The voice was barely even a whisper but in Grantaire’s mind the words were loud enough to be heard for miles,

“What for?” Grantaire met Enjolras’ gaze as the blonde man leant in slowly until their lips were nearly touching,

“For showing that I matter.”

“You always will.” The seconds of anticipation seemed to last hours, but at long last their lips met in a moment of pure bliss. Grantaire felt Enjolras smile against his lips and he melted, they pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes for a second,

“Alright, get dressed.” Enjolras poked Grantaire in the ribs, “We’re leaving in five.”

 

“You never told me why you came over,” Enjolras looked up from his coffee and smiled, before he could say anything Grantaire added, “and don’t say anything about that bloody scarf.” Enjolras thought for a moment, he thought about the things he wanted to say but didn’t know how. This was not a situation that Enjolras was used to being in, he was always so confident in what he said and what he did but every time he saw Grantaire it was completely different,

“I just did, I guess.” Enjolras could see that his answer wasn’t enough for Grantaire but Enjolras simply didn’t know how to voice what he was thinking. It was almost perfect timing when the men’s food arrived at their table. Enjolras internally thanked no one in particular for an opportunity to forget about the question at hand and smiled at Grantaire before they began their meal.

 

“Grantaire!” The man snapped out of his thoughts, turning to see Courfeyrac standing behind him, “Wake up, man. You’ve been standing there with that bottle for ten minutes.” Grantaire looked back to the unopened bottle of whiskey in his hand and put it back in the cupboard. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Grantaire turned his whole body to face Courfeyrac. It had become a habit for Grantaire to start drinking the moment he walked through the door, but now he didn’t want to. For the first time in his life, Grantaire didn’t want to forget, he wanted his mind to be clear and he wanted to be able to recall each and every detail of his days. “I shouldn’t feel like this, Courf.”

“Why not?” Courfeyrac didn’t need to ask to know that Grantaire was talking about Enjolras, after all, Grantaire hadn’t spoken much about anything else since the two met. Grantaire sighed,

“Because it’s me, people like Enjolras never want anything to do with people like me. He’s a God, he’s smart, he’s passionate and I’m me, I don’t care about anything.” He sighed, dropping his eyes to the floor, “Except him.”

“Grantaire…”

“No, don’t.”

“Grantaire, listen to me.” Courfeyrac took a step closer to Grantaire, “Don’t ever think that you aren’t good enough for anyone, not even Enjolras.” Grantaire shook his head, “Don’t disagree with me.” Courf grabbed Grantaire by the shoulders, ”You are an amazing man, an amazing friend and if anything Enjolras is lucky to even be graced by your attention.” Grantaire still wasn’t convinced, Courfeyrac sighed, “You know he talks about you all the time?”

“What?” Grantaire’s eyes widened,

“He comes into the café every day, has for the past year and a half, and since that night at The Musain he’s asked about you every day. He asks how you’re doing or whether you’ve mentioned him, hell, he stayed for an hour the day before you guys had dinner asking about what foods you liked.” Grantaire was in shock, “So I officially give you permission to feel however you want to about him.” Grantaire pushed a smile out through his lingering doubts,

“There’s still one thing that’s bothering me Courf.

“And that is?”

“Can people really have feelings like this so quickly? All I know about things that move too fast is that they almost always crash.”

“But when they don’t crash, it’s one hell of a ride.” Courfeyrac rubbed Grantaire’s shoulder, “It’ll all be fine, just do what you always do.”

“Drink? Complain?” Grantaire tilted his head, trying to think of other things, “Drink?”

“No,” Courfeyrac took a step back, smiling at Grantaire, “just go with it, and let things happen as they will.”

Grantaire nodded, he had no energy left that could be used to make any more points, he yawned and rubbed his face with his hands, “I’m going to go to bed. Thank you for…” He looked at Courfeyrac, “Just thank you.”  Courfeyrac pulled him into a tight hug, Grantaire returned the hug but pulled away at the first opportunity, he didn’t want to be around anyone at the moment. He fell in a heap on his bed without bothering to change his clothes. He lay awake for ages, absorbed in thoughts of the marble man who, no matter what, still seemed all too good for him.


End file.
